


Impossible Year.

by Ya_Boi_Iggy



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Heavy Angst, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 12:30:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14402184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ya_Boi_Iggy/pseuds/Ya_Boi_Iggy
Summary: Sam Drakes life is one impossible year after another.





	Impossible Year.

**Author's Note:**

> Song is Impossible Year by Panic! At The Disco.

_There's no sunshine._

_This Impossible Year._

_Only black days,_

_And sky grey,_

_And clouds full of fear._

 

It was meant to be a simple job. The one that kickstarted the finishing stretch to the treasure Sam and his little brother had been hunting since they were just kids; orphans, with nothing but the clothes on their backs and the dreams in their heads. Finding the final clue they needed in the god foresaken prison was supposed to be the easiest part. And with the rich kid Rafe at their side, funding the whole endeavor, on the terms of a cut of their findings, the entry and exit to the run down Spanish jail would be clean and quick.Things weren't supposed to go sour so fast.

 

_And storms full of sorrow,_

_That won't disappear._

_Just typhoons,_

_And monsoons,_

_This Impossible Year._

 

It had all happened so fast. He remembered very little bit of it. There had been a confrontation. The warden who had been bribed to get them out, Vargas, had snuffed out their bluff. Realised they were hiding even bigger money than what they promised him, and turned on them. Rafe killed him. Alarms rang, and they had to run for it. Through a network of sky-high barbed walls, and guards armed with guns that overwhelmed them a thousand to three. Somehow, it never occurred to Sam he wouldn't get out of it. No matter what situation had been thrown at him all his life, he had weaseled himself out of it somehow. Bullets were a much harder predicament to squirm away from.

 

_There's no good times,_

_This Impossible Year._

_Just a beach front,_

_Of bad blood._

_And a coast that's unclear._

 

Freedom had been right within his grasp. A rugged coastline. A literal few steps away, and he would have been home free. Well on his way to finding the legacy left by his late mother. But fate granted him no such pleasure, and the last thing he remembered before his vision went black was his brothers horrified face. Desperately trying to pull him up to safety. The blood he had gurgled had felt like fire in his lungs. And when he awoke hours later, body ablaze in an intense pain that tore apart his skin, the memory of such anguish plastered across his only remaining family's face haunted him for hours. Days. Years, as he recovered from his physical injuries that were quick to be replaced with new ones as he was subjugated to the brutality of those he had tried to escape. 

 

_All the guests at the party,_

_They're so insincere._

_They just intrude,_

_And exclude,_

_This Impossible Year._

 

A bond rekindled, and fifteen years later, he was back on track. The Rossi estate would be the barer of the artifact they needed to pick up where they left off, and despite the blackmail Sam had been forced to use to get his brothers compliance, a dirty conscience was little compared to the destiny he knew needed to be fulfilled. The Auction was filled with people just like him; seedy, illegal folk who spent their lives trailing after the treasures left behind by those who lived decades ago. Anyone unaware wouldn't have been able to tell they were anything more than rich aristocrats looking for something to add to their collection. Things were going well. Exactly as they were supposed to, until a face that had once been friendly reappeared. Rafe Adler. The man who had the money, who had once been on their side, was against them. There was no sharing of the final outcome anymore. It was winner takes all.

 

_There's no You and Me,_

_This Impossible Year._

_Only heart ache,_

_And heart break._

_And gin made of tears._

 

The trail left un-trodden for fifteen years became their journey. Took them from Scotland to Madagascar, with their newly accumulated competition hot on their heels, and breathing down their neck with every step they made. It was a race against time, that left them little opportunity to enjoy just where they were, and what they were doing, together. A slowly rising thrum of intensity came to a rippling crescendo of thrown fists and fired guns in and old, Pirate haven known as Libertallia. Truths had been spilled. And what the younger brother had once thought he knew about the elder was torn from its foundations. He had lied. Forced his hand, and when tempers flared, the youngest was lost over a cliffside. Sam had surrendered himself to his thoughts when he was made to walk away from the scene of his siblings' possible demise, thinking of how he should have just been honest. How he should never submitted Nathan to the added danger of Rafe Adler and his army.

 

_The bitter pill I swallow,_

_The scar souvenir._

_That tattoo,_

_Your last bruise,_

_This Impossible Year._

 

Thoughts had drifted to the past. Memories of sneaking away from a catholic orphanage, and carting away to an old mansion-looking house that Sam had tracked their late mothers research and life work to, came flooding back. They remembered how they found the journal that documented all of their moms' theories . How they had been held at gunpoint by and old lady who had turned out to be their parents' employer. How the lady had suddenly fell to her knees, dead, of a heart attack. And how they had to escape, fast, when police came, sirens blaring to investigate a breaking and entering. How they had taken refuge under a bridge, near the river, and made the decision to change their names and start again. As Samuel and Nathan Drake, the rightful inheritors of all fortune that lay before them. Sam had said they were destined for greatness. He hadn't known of the convoluted path that lay before them at such a declartion.

 

_There's never air to breathe,_

_There's never in betweens,_

_These nightmares always hang on,_

_Passed the dreams._

 

The brothers reunited once more, and the youngest declared their story over. He deemed continuing with the pursuit suicidal. And try as he might, the eldest couldn't convince him otherwise. With no more fight, and nobody left to back him up; he reluctantly stood down. Accompanied by Nathans partner and an old friend, they made their way to the docks. To the plane that would take them away from the island. Leaving the treasure they had sought to the hands of Rafe. And they had almost gotten away, until Sam hit a change of heart once more, and fled to the cave that house his fortune. Memories and emotions from his childhood holding him like a vice, refusing him peace of mind until he had seen his mission through until the very end.

 

_There's no sunshine._

_There's no You and Me._

_There's no good times._

 

The quest came to an end. Sam was left unable to move beneath the wooden beam of the burning ship that held their birthright. His brother, who had chased him, left to fight off their enemy. Flames had licked at and scorned soft skin, blades crossing in an ancient dance of combat until Rafe was left dead beneath the weight of the very treasure he had sought to take from the men who had yearned for it years before him. Sam would have liked to say he was upset about the demise of his old accomplice. But after all he had put them through, sympathy and grief was not an emotion willing to show its face. The ship swiftly began collapsing in on them. And with no time to take what was rightfully theirs, they made their escape. Swimming for their lives from the quickly crumbling cave. Leaving behind the body of Rafe Adler. Leaving behind the legacy of their mother. Leaving behind what their lives had been dedicated to finding.

 

_This Impossible Year._

 


End file.
